


a dangerous night to fall in love

by onebatch2batch



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Billy's the actual worst, F/M, Frank has a crush, Happy Ending, Karen's a badass as usual, mentions of rape/non con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 08:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14052741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onebatch2batch/pseuds/onebatch2batch
Summary: Charity Event AU. Frank Castle doesn't expect to bid on a date with Karen Page, and certainly doesn't expect the disaster that follows.





	a dangerous night to fall in love

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: mentions of rape/sexual assault. Read cautiously. Nothing explicit. 
> 
> Also THE BIGGEST OF THANK YOUS AND LOVE to Bree aka @frankcastlestanktop on tumblr for editing and making this about 20x more enjoyable to read. Go show her some love!

Karen Page stares into the bathroom mirror, preparing.  _ It’s all going to go according to plan _ , she tells herself.

She’s been standing here for the better part of fifteen minutes, taking in her appearance and bracing herself for the oncoming storm. She’s never been particularly elegant —she’d been labeled a tomboy as a kid—but the dress hugging her curves says otherwise. Its rich maroon contrasts against her pale skin and the deep v neckline plunges temptingly. It’s the most beautiful piece of clothing she owns, and certainly the priciest. But tonight, it’s merely a prop, a means to an end, which almost made paying for it even worse.

Karen meets her own steely gaze.  _ This is going to work. You’re smart, you’ve prepared for this, it has to work. Just turn on the charm. _

Outside the door, she hears the growing clamor of voices.  The charity event outside has begun, and the guests have begun to arrive. She braces herself on the sink, plastering a smile on her face.

She has a job to do.

\--

Frank Castle is not a man who enjoys social events. Since losing his family five years ago in a car crash, he’s ostracized himself from society as much as possible. At first it was from  grief--now he prefers it that way. Frank attends charity events because he has to; because he’s the co-founder of a successful company and that’s what’s expected of him. Truthfully, he’d much rather be at home with rosé and a nice book. Here there are too many people with inquisitive eyes and curious questions—and his collar is too damn tight.

The banquet hall is massive, and the décor is a little over the top for a charity auction. Frank supposes that’s par for the course. Let the wealthy people flock, eat expensive hors d’oeuvres and talk about their vacations overseas. Let them expound on their wealth and give it away because they can.

It’s a smart tactic, but he expects nothing less from Karen Page. His eyes wander over the banners across the hall, “ **_Your Donation Helps New York’s Inter-City Schools_ ** ”. They don’t say her name but her influence is everywhere. Frank first met Karen months ago at another of her charity events. He had been blown away by her charm and easy wit. After discovering she was a reporter, he had searched for her work online. Karen’s heartfelt exposés detailed crime in the city and the turmoil that came from it. The articles were fearless, determined, and cunning. Much like Miss Page herself. He now reads anything with her name in the byline. She, as well as using his money for something actually worthwhile, are really the only two reasons he accepts the invitations that show up at his office.

It’s certainly not for the company, he thinks as Billy Russo, the other half of Anvil, steps beside him with a cocktail in hand. Frank glances over and tempers his frown; he and Billy have— _ had _ , Frank thinks sourly—been friends for a very long time. They served together in the Marines. Later, Billy was the one to bring Frank back to civilization after his family died. Billy even convinced Frank to join him in the business of protecting New York’s elite. But over last year or so an animosity had grown between them, and for good reason.

It’s amazing what a change of perspective can do.

Billy looks right at home here, in his tailored suit and shined shoes. His hair is slicked back, beard neatly trimmed, and his lips lifted in a smirk. Frank just knows Billy’s entire outfit costs at least twice his own. Billy has always been one for flair. 

  
“Look at these suckers,” Billy murmurs over his glass, as his eyes follow a pair of elegantly dressed women.

Frank grunts and looks away, lips twisting. There’s another ten minutes or so before they have to find their seats and he’d rather not make small talk. Tonight, he’s so tightly wound that Billy’s inane comments might just be enough to set him off, even if they’re surrounded by dozens of people. Frank is searching for an escape route when he catches sight of a familiar pair of bright blue eyes.

Karen Page walks towards them like a woman on a mission. She’s dressed to the nines— a long maroon dress that sparkles and catches the light; heels that add extra inches to her imposing height; her golden hair tumbling over her shoulder in soft curls. She looks like a dream.  Frank tries to slow his accelerated breathing as she approaches. Her gaze sweeps over him briefly before fixing on Billy. Karen makes a beeline for them, and Frank feels his shoulders snap to attention when she stands before them.

“Gentleman,” she says warmly. “Thank you for coming tonight. The owners of Anvil, correct?”

Billy steps forward and takes her outstretched hand, bringing it to his lips. “My pleasure. And yes—we’ve provided the security detail for this evening. I’m Billy Russo, and this frowning man is my partner, Frank Castle.”

“Karen Page.” Her gaze slides to Frank, considering. “I believe we’ve met before.”

Frank nods, trying to ignore the pause before she pulls her hand from Billy’s grip. “We have. Nice to see you, ma’am.”

“Karen, please.” She flashes Billy a wide smile. “Anything special you’re planning on bidding on tonight, Mr. Russo?”

He doesn’t seem thrown by the change in topic; her suggestive tone drags a predatory smile across his lips. “Something may have caught my eye.”

Frank watches their exchange with clenched fists. Not only are the beginnings of jealousy stirring in the back of his mind, but there’s protectiveness pinching his spine. It makes him sick to see Billy acting this way, especially when Frank suspects his ulterior motives are less than kind. Frank can practically see Billy planning the rest of the evening.  His blood boils to know there’s no solid proof— he can’t do anything to stop what will happen.

Karen seems pulled in by Billy’s charm just like every other woman he makes eyes at. She places a hand on Billy’s arm and leans close, murmuring something in his ear Frank can’t quite catch. She steps away and Billy watches her go. He turns to clasp Frank’s shoulder.

“I know what I’m bidding on,” he smirks cheerfully before releasing Frank and pushing through the throngs towards his seat.

Frank tracks his leave. Dread sinks in his gut like a stone and by the time he turns to look for Karen she has disappeared into the crowd.

\--

Karen cuts through the maze of guests filing to their seats. She feels the need to shower  _ immediately _ . There have been times that she’s been hit on that made her uncomfortable, but she can still feel Billy’s lips on her knuckles, his breath hot on her skin. She wipes her hand on her dress before  remembering it costs more than her apartment. Karen makes her way backstage with a grim frown.

Everything rides on the next hour. Karen paces behind the curtain and reviews the plan so far: First, invite Billy Russo  to her charity event. Second, she dresses much like every other victim of his—regal, elegant—and makes contact with him. Third, Karen makes sure he knows she’s interested. Finally,  she gets him semi-alone and either convinces him to talk into her recorder, or she goes through his phone while he’s not looking. It should be easy enough. She just needs enough evidence to get him behind bars. 

Six months of careful planning will culminate tonight. Karen thinks of the women who sat in her office in tears (and the women she hasn’t met yet)  and her heart aches. She thinks of how powerless they felt going up against a wealthy business owner, trying to convince the world that he assaulted them in private. And their heartbreak when no one believed them. Well, Karen believes; she has since the beginning.

She’ll bring Russo down, even if it means putting herself in his path.

\--

Frank’s foul mood only grows as the auction proceeds, even if he’s impressed by the amount of money being raised. If there’s one thing Karen Page knows, it’s getting rich people to donate their money. Her charm and eagerness make it impossible not to. It’s another reason he admires her, even if he would never admit it out loud.

It’s another twenty minutes before she steps onto the stage and he loses his breath all over again at the sight of her. She looks cool, collected, calm—like she’s made to stand in a plunging dress in front of dozens of people. Like she knows exactly how the evening is going to go, and she’s not afraid of what comes next. The stage lights bathe her, bringing out the sparkle of her dress as she steps towards the podium. She looks incredible, flushing high in her cheeks, and Frank has a feeling she knows all eyes are on her.

He’s brought back to the present when Billy knocks his elbow. “Wish me luck,” he mutters, and Frank tempers his scowl.

_ Like hell _ .

“And now, our esteemed organizer of this event, Miss Karen Page. She has offered herself up a date for the evening, and of course—all money goes to the charity. We’ll start the bidding at $200.”

Billy’s arm shoots up, nearly knocking his bidding paddle against Frank’s head, before calling. “$300!” The auctioneer laughs and Karen hides a smile behind her hand.

“Alright then, we’ll start the bidding at $300!”

Billy’s bid climbs higher as a few other join in. Frank taps his finger restlessly, eyes on the floor as he listens. After nearly two minutes Billy has pushed the price up to $1,000, forcing the other bidders out. Frank realizes the auctioneer is counting down on Billy’s bid. Panic seizes him. Before he can stop himself, before he can tell himself this is a bad idea, he throws his arm in the air and shouts, “$2,500.”

Several people turn to him in surprise. The auctioneer and Karen stare, shocked by his bid. Billy’s bid now seems meager in comparison. The auctioneer gathers himself, bangs his gavel and declares, “Sold to Mr. Frank Castle!”

Frank lowers his sign with Billy’s glare and Karen’s crestfallen expression forever seared into his brain.

\--

The slight chill outside of the hall is enough to make Karen shiver. She pulls her coat tight and braces against the wall, glaring hard at her feet. Her mind spins with so many emotions she doesn’t know where to begin: she’s frustrated that her six-month plan is ruined, angry for letting herself plan this with so many variables, sadness for the women who will inevitably be hurt by her inability to do her job. And lastly, confused—Frank’s even, unflinching stare is still forefront in her mind. What had he been thinking when he placed his bet? He hadn’t bid at all that night, other than for some random artifact that she knows, deep down, he’ll donate to a museum anyway. 

 

He always does.

Karen takes a deep breath, feels the cold air fill her lungs. She needs a new plan, but feels hopeless. Everything is ruined and she’s out of ideas.

She feels someone at her elbow. Her editor Ellison steps beside her wearing a deep frown.    
  


“Didn’t go according to plan, huh?” he asks, sympathetic. He grips a cigarette between two fingers and although Karen has never been a smoker, she craves a puff. 

“I was so close,” she sighs and leans against the building. “Russo wanted it. He was going to pay for it, but then—“

“Then Frank Castle happened.”

“Yeah.”

Ellison takes a drag of his cigarette. “Hey, at least he bid high. Those intercity kids are going to get a lot of money for school.”

She nods. “But I could have done that  _ and  _ taken a rapist off the streets. A wealthy one, too.”

Ellison clears his throat and jerks his chin. “Your date is here,” he mutters in lieu of an answer, then melts away as Frank Castle appears. Karen sighs and pushes off the wall to greet him.

Her curiosity piques as he approaches, his expression rigid and fists shoved into his pockets. She reviews what little she knows about him: the tragic personal loss, a reputation of keeping to himself, that he only comes to these events because he has to. 

  
Frank places high bids on nonsensical things no one else cares for. Money hasn’t been an issue for him or his partner after Anvil took off. According to her research, Castle and Russo were former Marines who once shared a platoon, and now share a security business that protects some of the wealthiest people in the city.

Frank Castle himself remains somewhat of an enigma.

“Miss Page.” He stops a foot away, his tone bland and respectable. Every inch the Marine.

“Mr. Castle.” She is unable to help the annoyance in her voice.

She’s not angry with him, not really. There is absolutely no way Frank Castle could have known what she hoped to do tonight. She’s angry with herself for leaving a loophole for anyone but Billy Russo to win. Castle frowns at her tone, shifts on his feet. His jaw ticks like he’s holding back a thought then speaks in a voice that raises shivers on her arms. “Look,” he growls, “I know I’m not pretty as Bill. You don’t have to go on this date. Just take the money an’ go home.”

Of all the things he could have said, she couldn’t have expected this. Karen blinks slowly,  confusion muddling her thoughts. “Wait, what?”

He scowls. Is she making fun of him? “I’m just sayin’, I know Bill is better lookin’ but--…”

“Mr. Castle, no.” Karen can’t help her smile. It’s endearing, really. Billy Russo is a metrosexual egomaniac and Frank thinks that’s what she likes. For a moment, she isn’t sure if she should be offended. She replies, amused. “You’re plenty handsome. That’s not—I’m not…”

“Look, it’s fine. I get it. I just—couldn’t let him get to you.”

She stops short.  _ Get to her? _ Does that mean he knows his business partner, _ his longtime friend, _ is a rapist? Billy Russo sexually assaults women and Frank Castle does nothing to stop it? Anger builds in Karen’s chest. She narrows her eyes and steps closer.    
  
“You  _ know _ ?”

There’s a moment where she can read him like an open book; he goes still. He searches her face, mouth twisted into a frown. Shock slackens his expression. “Page,  _ you _ know?”

“Of course I know,” she hisses. “I’ve been planning to take him down for six months! I’ve been recording testimonies, scheduling events, trying to get his guard down. And I almost fucking had him until  _ you _ decided to play hero!”

Franks shifts uncomfortably, but the anger is plain on his face. “So what, you were gonna let him get you, too? Get him alone and  _ force _ him to confess?”

Her hackles rise. If he’s known about it, why he hasn’t done anything himself? What’s stopping him? “Better than your plan, I’m sure. How long have you known, Frank?”

His guilt is palpable in the air between them. He looks away, brows drawing shadows across his face. The wind picks up, but she’s so angry she barely feels it. When he meets her eyes again it’s with a look of iron. “I needed evidence. I believe…the stories. The women. So many women.” Frank digs a hand through his hair, pulls it into a wild shape made wilder by the rising wind. “Bill said it was all lies, but…I knew. I needed to put him away. For good. There’s cameras in his office, microphones too, but…”

He trails off, the iron replaced by something soft and raw. Shared defeat weighs them both down. Karen slumps into her coat and sighs as she pushes her hair back. “There has to be something we can --” An idea hits her. “Wait. I think have a plan.”

Frank looks up, catches the gleam in her eye. “I’m not gonna like this, am I?”

Karen straightens, her mind ticking at lightspeed. She shrugs.

“You don’t really have a choice.”

\--

“Mr. Russo!”

Billy turns, champagne flute in hand. Karen beams up at him, her hand in the crook of Frank’s elbow. Billy tucks his free hand in his pocket and offers an indulgent smile. “Leaving for your date, Miss Page?”

“Actually… Mr. Castle here was just explaining himself.” Frank tenses and Karen tightens her grip. She sways in to Billy with a conspiring look. “He said you were bidding cheap, so he had to raise the stakes.“   
  
She transmits a fierce pinch to Frank’s inner elbow, prompting his first line: “But I’m not really in a  _ date _ mood, Bill.”   
  
Frank hates this plan. He hates what it implies and he hates how much could go wrong. Most of all, he hates the idea of Karen losing control of the situation once she’s beyond his reach. 

There’s a pregnant pause and Billy’s cool stare nearly levels them both. Then he breaks into a slow smile. “Is that so?”

Karen lets go of Frank. She closes the space to Billy and delivers  a wide-eyed grin. “You wouldn’t let a woman get drinks on her own, would you?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Billy sweeps his arm up, offering it to Karen who accepts without delay.

As she’s lead to the bar, Karen throws a final glance back to Frank. He’s the perfect mixture of worry, frustration and something she can’t place. With a curt nod, Frank turns and disappears through a side door. Now she’s alone with Billy Russo.

What could go wrong?

\--

_ “Absolutely not.” _

_ “Frank, this isn’t your decision. You ruined my plan. Now you’re going to help un-ruin it. That means doing exactly what I say.” _

_ He glares, then looks away with a huff. “This is a stupid idea, Karen.” _

_ She knows it’s stupid. She knows that, once again, the variables outweigh the certainties. She just prays luck is on her side this time. _

_ But with Frank on board, she can’t help but feel optimistic. _

_ \-- _

The air in the cab is stifling. Billy leans against the door and watches her. Karen feels like a caged animal under his heavy gaze, but she digs deep and finds a smile that brings him closer. Her fingers dance across his knee. Billy drags his gaze the length of her body.

“I was hoping you’d make a bid,” she murmurs and his face darkens with a strange delight.

“I hadn’t noticed,” he chuckles and winds an arm around her shoulders.

Her smile is coy enough, she hopes, to mask the disgust that coils in her stomach. “Was I that obvious?”

“Obvious? No. Interested? Yes,” he answers softly, twirling a lock of her hair between his fingers. “Sensual,...of course. That’s enough for me.”

Karen ducks to hide her grimace behind the undone waves of her hair. As much as she knows she needs to keep her cool and play along, she’s always worn her heart on her sleeve. A sick feeling weighs her down, pressing in and causing her heart to pound. She swallows past it. “Hmm, I was hoping so.” She tucks her nose against the perfumed skin of his neck. “You know what else I was hoping?”

His hand reaches across her thigh, taking hold and wrenching her leg painfully to get a handful of her ass. It startles a gasp from Karen and he grins. Billy gives her a hard squeeze, which she imagines he thinks is a turn-on. In fact, she’s tempering the instinct to clock him right there in the backseat. Karen pauses, then releases her breath. She forces a smile against his shoulder. “I was hoping that we could… skip the date part.”

He hums appreciatively, lifting his head to nod at the driver. “Have to stop by the office if you don’t mind. Then my night is yours, Miss Page.”

The driver nods. As the car loops down a side street towards Anvil’s offices Karen notes with pleasure that everything is finally going to plan.

Frank had been right.

\--

 

The Anvil office is, of course, empty when they arrive. It’s a massive warehouse deep in the borough docklands. Billy takes Karen’s hand with the practiced ease of someone who’s done this to countless women. Karen notes he keeps a foot in front and his grip tight. Through dark halls and open-concept workspaces they arrive at a door that reads  **Billy Russo, President** .

Inside, his office is warmer, but not by much. Low lighting bathes the modern concrete walls a soft glow. On an actual date, this would be the moment where she’d begin to feel the building excitement. The apprehension of what’s to come.

She only feels terror, with the way he’s looking at her. He steps around Karen, circling her like a predator. His fingers slide under the collar of her coat and draw it slowly down her shoulders. There’s a prickle of fear that comes with it, an unwelcome feeling of exposure. There is also the added terror that he’ll discover the recording device running in her coat pocket.

He tosses the coat onto a chair then steps in, backing Karen against his desk. He cages her in, placing hands on either side of her body. Billy leans forward until his nose brushes the dip in her throat. “I know what you’re doing,” he says, dragging his hand across her hip and up into the deep v neckline. His lips brush over the curve of her cheek. Karen tenses, an icy droplet of fear trickling down her spine.

Billy’s hand creeps higher, closing around her throat just enough to be uncomfortable.  He pulls away sharply and his eyes blaze with anger. “It won't be that easy to trap me, Miss Page.” His grip tightens.

The shift is terrifying. Billy’s frame is wound tight. His hand clamps tighter and his blunt nails dig into her skin. There’s something evil, even maniacal in his gaze that makes Karen struggle to breathe. She scrabbles backwards blindly, groping for her purse and the gun inside. This is going south very, very quickly. Faster than she’d imagined. Billy reaches behind her, scoops the bag in one hand and slings it across the room. “I know you’ve been investigating me about those women I ‘raped’. I know tonight was a ploy. Although I’m not sure what you expected to happen.” He sneers at Karen as her eyes widen. “Maybe you’re trying to be one of those women. Maybe you need a lesson in manners.  _ Maybe  _ I should oblige.”

Where is Frank? Is he on the way? Is he unlocking the building right now, barreling inside? Karen swallows hard and tries to slow everything down. All she has to do is wait him out. “No, please, I—”

It takes all of three seconds for Billy’s face to shift to fury. He rears back and slaps her with the full force of his weight behind it. Stars explode behind Karen’s eyes and somewhere beyond the dull buzz and flashing lights she sees the ground rise up to meet her. Pain erupts under her eye socket and ripples along her jaw. As Karen curls in dazed agony, Billy’s polished wingtips swim into view. Bleary, Karen turns to look up into the mad fire burning in his eyes. Billy parts his lips to speak. Before he can utter a sound, the office door splinters with a wrenching shriek.

“Russo!” Frank roars — the sound is muted in Karen’s ears as if the universe is under water.  There’s a grunt and a crash somewhere to her left. She pulls herself to sitting, the feeling of a thousand needles pressing through her skull. From the other side of the room there’s a struggle and shouting before Billy’s body slides across the floor and meets the far wall with a heavy thud. Frank Castle is on him is seconds. He yanks Billy by the tie and drives a fist into his stomach. Karen leans against the desk and touches her cheek gingerly. As the ringing subsides, she closes her eyes to the violence in front of her.

“Frank,” she croaks over the sound of Russo’s pained grunts, “Frank, please.”

There’s a pause in the attack. Slowly the room quiets until only Russo’s labored groans are audible. Then, soft footsteps and Frank kneels beside her. He places a hand gently on Karen’s shoulder. “You okay?”

She opens her eyes and squints up at Frank. There’s blood on his cheek, but it isn’t his. His free hand is stretched between them, knuckles bloody and torn. But his eyes are soft on hers. Karen bites her lip and nods, grimaces as pain blooms across her cheek. He skims his fingers over the wound with a ginger touch.   
  
“Bruised, not broken, though.”   
  
Karen barks a broken laugh, “That makes two of us.”

She flicks her eyes to Billy’s crumpled form. He doesn't move.   
  
“Christ, is he—?”

Frank scoffs. “Nah. Should be though.” And then, “I’m sorry you got into this. I...I tried to stop him…”

“It’s okay,” she sighs, dropping her head back against the desk carefully.

He squeezes her arm, places her coat over her lap, and calls 911.

—

Karen sits on the floor of the ambulance and lets her legs dangle over the edge. Her face is swollen and the entirety of her left cheek has started to bruise. Her feet are killing her from her heels, and her charity gala dress gets more and more uncomfortable as the minutes crawl by. Despite it all… or because of it, the police and medics clear her to go home. She assures them she’ll do just that once she can find the energy to stand. In the next moment the familiar set of Frank' broad shoulders hitch against her.

“Hi,” she croaks, and Frank looks her over in concern.

“Hey. You alright?”

She shrugs, pulling her coat close to her shoulders. “Thanks to you. You were right; Russo knew what I was doing the whole time. Things went south a lot faster than we thought.”

“Than  _ you _ thought,” Frank grunts with humor, then sobers when he meets her eyes. “We have plenty of evidence now.”

She likes the way he says  _ we _ , like they’re partners working together to close a big case. Like friends, or more. The idea warms her, gives her something to focus on besides the pain in her face and body. “Good,” she gestures to the space beside her, “Want to sit?”

Frank accepts her offer, fitting his hips beside hers in the narrow door, Despite everything they’ve just been through, both find themselves shy now. It’s their first real moment alone and the weight of it fills the air between them. Karen turns to him, hair loose and falling over her shoulder. When she pushes it away, he tracks the movement with a look so sharp she shivers.    
  
“I haven’t thanked you yet.”    
  
Frank opens his mouth, but she pushes forward before he can respond. “Can I take you to  dinner?”

He stares, surprised. “Karen. You don’t have to do that.”

She quirks an eyebrow and grins. “Come on, I’m starved. Am I that bad of a date?”

Frank’s smile mirrors hers, then tenses. He’s unsure how to voice his response. “Nah. Just, uh...been wantin’ to ask you out for a while. Could never find the right moment.”

Karen tilts her head, considers him earnestly, then tucks her hand in the crook of his bent arm. She leans forward to press a small kiss at the side of his mouth. His soft look of surprise makes her heart flip in her chest.   
  
“How about greasy food at a terrible diner?” His tone is light, even relieved.

She grins. “Only if they have coffee. It doesn’t even have to be good at this point.”

“I know just the place. Worst-best coffee around.”

“Then it’s a date.”

Frank beams, his look a little tender and a little shy. He stands and holds out a hand. When she places her palm on his, it feels like a beginning and an ending all at once.

**Author's Note:**

> Title song from Dangerous Night - 30 Seconds to Mars. Come say hi on tumblr! (@onebatch2batch)


End file.
